


Jackie's Birthday

by lunaseemoony



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Babies, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Time Babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5827447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaseemoony/pseuds/lunaseemoony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The children are purple.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jackie's Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on uploading drabbles and ficlets here from tumblr so that the collections are complete.

“Rose, have you seen the…” The Doctor strolled into the galley, finger to the notes in his hand and a pencil wedged between his lips. His face was buried in them, and he only looked up above his black rimmed glasses to make certain that Rose was, in fact, in the galley in the first place. He dropped his notebook to the floor, and the pencil shattered into two pieces as it fell with it. “The children are purple.”

Rose turned around and offered the Doctor a wry smile. She too was buried in something, a sheet of paper. When she turned to him, the hand that waved to him was yellow. Their time tots sat on the floor in a puddle of purple goo at her feet, cackling as they admired one another. Their boy had fashioned for himself a hairstyle resembling purple mohawk, while their little girl sported a very purple belly. All four of their chunky baby thighs were covered in the purple mess. As he looked on, mouth agape, they were painting one another’s faces, as if they were going into battle against cleanliness.

“Paint,” the Doctor sighed.

“Well, yeah, what did you think it was?” Rose’s face fell to the counter, and he watched her stomach cave in as she fought back a laugh. She waved back at him and shook her head as she failed in this task miserably, the next words coming out in a garbled mess of hoots and gasps, “You know what, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

The Doctor picked up his notebook and straightened up, smoothing out his coat as he made a few steps closer to the war zone in front of the counter. “What are you three getting up to, anyway?”

“They were just having a bit of fun, Doctor. Since we’re going to visit mum, I figured we may as well pop the TARDIS in on her birthday. We’re making her a card,” Rose explained after she took a few calming breaths.

The Doctor took a few steps closer to the counter to peer over Rose’s shoulder. She’d moved back to what she was doing when he entered, which was carving out a heart in letters. Her eyes darted back and forth between another sheet of paper and the card she was working on. The twins’ hands were stamped in the purple paint on the card inside the heart. He’d never seen their hands printed before. For him time passed with the wind. It could have been just yesterday that their hands were no bigger than a mouse, their fat little fingers coiled around his. After fourteen months their hands were still tiny, but they grew so much they could have been giants.

“Just in time, I need yours too,” Rose added with a degree of nonchalance that made a grimace spread onto his face.

“I’m not sticking my hand in paint,” the Doctor complained, hand recoiling as Rose reached for it.

“Well, the kids have already gotten your trousers covered. A bit on your hand won’t make you regenerate. Come on, it’s for my mum, Doctor.”

The Doctor looked down and gasped. His brown pinstriped ankles were now purple pinstriped ankles. His lips twisted to a growl before he saw two pairs of Rose-brown eyes with matching sunbeams for smiles looking up at him. It’ll wash, he reminded himself. He thought for a moment that his children smiling could wipe out even a dalek. He wanted to say that he knew better than to think as much, but before they were even walking they were learning the TARDIS’s console controls.

“Alright, you get one hand print. One,” he gave in.

The way that Rose bit her lower lip and smiled at him when he’d added his, they knew neither of them needed to speak it. It was silly, maybe a bit childish, the messy little card. But the Doctor had to appreciate at least in a small way how a spot of paint could make him feel like he was overflowing with a sense of completion that a fancy gift from around the universe couldn’t.


End file.
